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Wasteland Tales #15


“I estimate- maybe 50 years before you can even approach- our creation. Doubt I’ll see tomorrow. So- I took a cyberframe.” He’s croaking now, blazing eyes in a pallid, dying face. “Grew you around it. From my DNA. Fed you knowledge- science, surgery, tactics, combat. You won’t need food. Some water. Made you a survivor. That’s what the world needs. Not a hero. A survivor.”
He slumps over his desk.
“Tired now. Gotta rest.”
Struggling to stay awake. To stay alive.
“The Eye. The Eye we gave the world.” Slurry dream speech.
“Close it.”
A last choked gasp.
“Fix it.”

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